


Hold a Candle

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Smut, josephine!clarke - Freeform, post 6x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-20 05:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18986311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Bellamy sneaks Josephine out of Sanctum in the hopes of bringing Clarke back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know man, my brain is mush.

“They’ll find us here,” Clarke says. Except it’s not Clarke, Bellamy reminds himself. It’s Josephine. Her voice sounds almost the same. There’s just enough difference to give her away.

Bellamy looks back at her, stepping away from the entrance of the cave, where he’d been checking to make sure no one had followed them. Her hands and feet are bound. He’d carried her the whole way here, over his shoulder, trying to ignore her snarky remarks.

“You don’t know that,” Bellamy says.

Clarke—Josephine—smirks back at him, using Clarke’s face, but twisting it differently. Her expressions are almost unrecognisable.

“Everyone will be out looking for me. The shield is down. They’re going to know exactly which path you took. It will take them half an hour, tops.”

“Maybe that will be long enough.”

Josephine looks amused. “What are you going to do, Bellamy? Torture me until you get Clarke back? Rip the chip out of my neck?”

“If I have to.”

She considers him for a moment. “I know you won’t hurt me. Just like I knew you wouldn’t let Murphy shoot me. You wouldn’t risk it.”

“Yeah? Why’d you help us get the shield down then?”

Josephine shrugs. “Fun.”

“Enough,” Bellamy groans. He’s supposed to be leading the interrogation here, not letting her wind him up. There has to be _something_ he can do to get Clarke back. He kneels down in front of her. “Clarke,” he says, looking into her eyes, searching for some hint that she’s still in there. “I know you’re in there. Please come back to me. Please.”

Josephine snorts. “She’s dead, Bellamy. Face the facts.”

“She can’t be,” Bellamy swallows. Just the mention of it brings tears to his eyes, and his chest constricts. He can’t lose her again. Not after everything they’ve been through.

Josephine tilts her head. “You really love her, don’t you?” Bellamy doesn’t respond. His jaw ticks. Josephine’s eyes widen in glee. “Don’t you have a girlfriend? What do you think they’re going to do to her when they find out you’ve taken me? To all your other friends?”

“Shut up,” Bellamy snarls. God, he can’t stand this. Clarke’s face, Clarke’s voice, taunting him about his girlfriend.

“You don’t care, do you? As long as your Clarke is okay.”

“Of course I care.”

He does care. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Echo, or Murphy, or any of the others. But they can take care of themselves, and this is more important right now. He tries again. He takes Josephine’s bound hands in his. “Clarke,” he says. “I know you’re in there. You can fight this. Remember—remember the first time we met? You hated me. And I thought you were a spoiled princess who only cared about herself. God, I was wrong. So, so wrong. You’re the best of me, Clarke. You made me a better person.”

He swallows, trying to dislodge the lump that’s formed in this throat. “Clarke,” he says, his voice trembling. “Don’t give up. I know we haven’t appreciated you enough, but we all know the sacrifices you’ve made for all of us. We need you. _I_ need you. I can’t—” his voice breaks, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t even think of it.”

“How touching,” Josephine rolls her eyes. Bellamy sighs, dropping her hands. He’s not giving up, but he’s at a loss for what else to try. “Listen, Bellamy,” Josephine says, leaning forward. “Clarke is dead. I know it sucks. But I’m here.”

“You’re not her.”

“I know,” Josephine says, smiling flirtatiously. “But I look exactly like her. I could pretend to be her for a little while.”

“What’s your point?” Bellamy grunts.

“Don’t you want to know what it feels like?” Josephine bats her eyelashes. “To kiss her? Make love to her? I bet you’ve thought about it. Hundreds of times, probably. Thousands, even.”

Bellamy’s face burns. Of course he’s thought about it. Sometimes, when he was on the ring, he could think of nothing else, even after he and Echo got together. It was torture. And then to have her back, only to have her snatched away from him so quickly? It’s hell all over again. How does he keep losing her, over and over and over?

“Come on,” Josephine whispers. “I know you want to. No one has to know. I’ll even let you keep me tied up.”

Bellamy’s eyes flick to her lips, inches from his. His heart pounds. He’s tempted.

“Kiss me, Bellamy,” she whispers, and she sounds almost like the real Clarke for a moment. But she’s not. Bellamy looks back to her eyes.

“It wouldn’t be real,” he says quietly. He stands up. He couldn’t do that to Clarke. Doesn’t want a shadow of the real thing anyway.

“Real is overrated. I could be your fantasy Clarke.”

“Shut up,” he snaps. “You don’t hold a candle to her.”

Perhaps he should just cut the chip out of her neck and be done with it. Maybe they’re lying. Maybe it wouldn’t kill her. He could smash the chip into a thousand pieces, make sure Josephine was truly gone for good. He glances at her. When she’s not talking, not taunting him, she looks just like Clarke. His heart aches. He can’t risk it. There has to be another way to get her back.

His ears prick, the distant sound of a motorbike or two getting closer.

“Told you,” Josephine shrugs. Bellamy refuses to give up that easily.

“Come on,” he says, tugging her up and throwing her over his shoulder again. The motorbike is closer now, too close. There’s no way he can outrun it. But he has to try.

He pokes his head of the cave, just as the bike skids to a stop outside. Fuck. Except, it’s not someone from Sanctum looking for Josephine.

“Diyoza?” And behind her, on another bike, Octavia. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re working for the Children of Gabriel now. Heard there was a Prime outside the dome.”

“Is that _Clarke_?” Octavia says. Bellamy glowers at her.

“No,” he says. “It’s Josephine.”

“Shit,” Diyoza says. She obviously understands what that means. “Put her on the back of the bike. Maybe the Children of Gabriel can help.”

Bellamy puts her on the back of Octavia’s bike. Josephine looks at him, serious for once.

“If you take me to the Children of Gabriel, they’ll kill me. You’ll never get Clarke back.”

“So you’re saying there is a way to get her back?”

Josephine opens her mouth, then quickly closes it again. That’s all the confirmation he needs. He climbs on the back of Diyoza’s bike. “Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy takes Josephine up on her offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why does everything i write end up being smut

“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?” Josephine whines. “You’re going to get us killed.”

Bellamy ignores her. It’s dark now, and he needs all his concentration to navigate the unfamiliar forest. Josephine’s hands are still bound, but he cut her feet loose so she can walk. They never would have escaped the Children of Gabriel if he’d had to carry her. Turns out Josephine was right. They did just want to kill her.

“Can we just stop for a few minutes? I’m tired.”

Bellamy sighs. He’s tired too. They’ve been walking for what feels like hours, and he has no idea where they are. Not that it matters. He has no idea where they’re going either. No direction, no plan. He’s all out of ideas. That was usually Clarke’s specialty anyway. His heart constricts. No. He can’t think about that now.

He stops, and Josephine leans against the nearest tree, relieved. Bellamy doesn’t dare drop the rope that binds her to him. He may not have a plan, but he knows he can’t let her out of his sight.

“I told you they’d try to kill me.”

“It was worth a shot.”

“You’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you?” Josephine muses. It doesn’t seem like she’s trying to taunt him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. “Do you think she loved you too?”

“I don’t know,” Bellamy huffs, trying to hide how much her words get to him. “Maybe I’ll ask her when I get her back.”

It’s hard to make out her expression in the moon glow, but Bellamy thinks she looks almost—sad. He’s never seen Josephine sad. Didn’t think she was capable of that emotion. But he’s seen _Clarke_ sad. And she looks just like that. He aches.

“She’s not coming back, Bellamy,” Josephine says. “You know that.”

“You’re lying,” he says. “You said before there was a way. If the Children of Gabriel won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will.”

“I never said that. You just decided that. You misinterpreted. She’s dead. She’s gone. Face it.”

There are tears streaking his face. He feels hollow. Some part of him knew since the first moment he realised Clarke was gone that he wouldn’t get her back this time. You only get so many chances with a person before they’re gone for good. He wasted all his.

“I should just kill you,” he says. He can’t stand for this imposter to live while his Clarke is gone. Every time he looks at her face it hurts. How can he just let her walk around in Clarke’s body, using it like it’s her own?

He doesn’t have a gun on him, but there are other ways to do it. He could hit her over the head with a rock. Find something sharp and slit her throat. Wrap his hands around her neck and choke the life from her.

In an instant he closes the gap between them, dropping the rope and pinning her against the tree with his body so she can’t escape. She doesn’t flinch as he his fingers close around her throat.

“You think I won’t do it,” he says.

“You know you can’t.”

She’s right. It doesn’t matter that he knows it’s not Clarke. It doesn’t matter that Clarke is dead, gone, lost to him forever. It’s still her body. Still her eyes, her lips, her hands. One look at her face and he knows he can’t go through with it.

Still, he tightens his grip. Not enough to cut off her airway, but enough to hurt her a little. “Still think I won’t?”

Josephine smirks. “Don’t you want to know what it’s like to fuck her before you kill me? My offer still stands, you know.” She drops her smile, crinkling her eyes up, making her look sad and vulnerable. Her lower lip trembles. “Please, Bellamy,” she begs. She sounds exactly like Clarke. “I want you so much. I’ve always wanted you. I think about you all the time. Touch me, please.”

Despite his best intentions, Bellamy feels himself growing hard. He doesn’t want to want her. But he’s spent years longing for her, wishing he told her he loved her when he had the chance. Wishing he could go back and save her so he could have her to himself for the rest of his life. Wishing he could fuck her senseless, and wake up with her in his bed the next morning.

And now she’s really gone, and he hadn’t realised how much he still wanted that until it truly became impossible to have. He hates himself for wasting so much time. For wasting all the time they had together.

“Please, Bellamy,” she whispers, and he knows it’s an act, but he feels his hands loosen. “I need you.”

He kisses her then, hard and hungry and biting. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. He’s not thinking at all. She seems genuinely surprised for a moment before she responds, but then she’s kissing him greedily, taking what she wants from him. Almost like she really has been waiting for him to do this for years and years.

He grabs her wrists with one hand and pushes them above her head forcefully, making her gasp. His tongue delves further into her throat and she moans into his mouth. He’s waited so long to hear Clarke moan like that.

He pulls his mouth away, but keeps his lips close to hers. “Tell me what you want,” he growls. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck me,” Josephine pants. Except no—she’s Clarke now. Just for now.  

He assaults her with his mouth again, letting go of her wrists so he can tear her shirt open with both hands. She doesn’t move her arms from above her head. Underneath, she’s wearing a pretty black bra, covered in lace. He pulls the cups down, lets her tits spring free. God, the amount of times he’s fantasised about these.  He grabs one roughly, bending to put his mouth on the other.

“God, Bellamy,” Clarke moans. Bellamy drops his hand between her legs, sliding it into her pants. She spreads her legs for him diligently. She’s wet as hell. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Bellamy lifts his head. “Me too,” he says, before he kisses her again. Softer this time. His fingers slip between her folds, and she bucks against his hand as he finds her clit. Fucking hell, he loves the way her body reacts to him.

He pushes a finger into her, and then another.

“We don’t have much time,” she reminds him. She’s right. Much as he’d like to slowly finger her to orgasm, watch her tremble beneath his touch, the Children of Gabriel could still be after them. They have to make this quick. Not how he wanted his first time with Clarke to go, but it’s better than nothing. Anything is better than nothing, right?

He keeps kissing her as he tugs her pants down, then undoes his own, pulling his hard cock out. For a moment he wishes she was untied so she could touch him. He’d love to see her hands around is cock. Or her mouth. But they don’t have time for that.

He pushes his cock between her open legs, finding her opening.

“Yes,” she whispers breathily. “Fill me up. I need you so much.” She drops her arms, circling them around his neck.

He kisses her as he slides inside her. “Clarke,” he murmurs between kisses. “Clarke.”

“I’m here,” she says. He jerks his hips, thrusting into her, fucking her hard against the tree. She feels better than he could have imagined. He listens to the little noises she makes, makes note of the way she feels, pressed against him, wrapped around him, taking his cock inside her. He knows that’s all Clarke. She smells like Clarke, feels like Clarke, tastes like how he always imagined Clarke would taste.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” she groans.

“Yeah?” Bellamy says. “You gonna come for me?”

“Yes,” she moans. “Keep going. Like that.” She goes silent after that, getting closer and closer, the only sound she makes is her laboured breathing against his ear, letting him know she’s almost there. He kisses her again, sucking her lower lip into his mouth, and she comes, gasping for air, her walls fluttering around his cock.

“Come in me,” she whispers. “Please, Bellamy.”

With a few more thrusts, he obeys her command, grunting as he spills into her, filling her up with his come. He collapses against her, arms around her, head buried into her shoulder. He cradles her in his arms, his cheeks wet with tears. He has no idea when he started crying.

“Was it everything you imagined it would be?” Josephine says. Bellamy shoves her arms from around his neck and jerks away from her. He suddenly feels sick to his stomach, filled with self-loathing. He turns away to tuck his cock back into his pants and do them up.

He glances back to Josephine, pants down, tits on display. He burns with shame. He makes quick work of the ropes around her wrists and lets her get herself decent again. She ties her ripped shirt up in a knot, showing off her belly.

“It’s a shame she never got to experience that. She would have loved it. Personally, I prefer to be the one in control, but it was a fun change.”

“Shut up,” Bellamy growls.

“Was Clarke on any birth control? Maybe you got me pregnant. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Bellamy’s stomach drops. Is there a possibility that could happen? “I mean, it would be her baby, not mine. It’s my consciousness but it’s all her DNA. Of course, if I am pregnant there’s no way I’m keeping the baby. Sorry. I’ve never wanted to give birth and have children and I’m not about to— where are you going?”

Bellamy doesn’t respond. He keeps walking. He can’t bear to be around her. His chest is constricted, his throat dry. He can’t breathe. Clarke is gone. She’s gone, and the first thing he does after is fuck the woman who stole her body. Clarke deserved better than that.

He sobs. He falls to his knees. He can’t stand anymore. How can he ever face the others after this? How can he face Madi, and Abby, and Echo, knowing what he’s done?

“I won’t tell anyone!” Josephine calls. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t tell anyone. It doesn’t matter if no one ever finds out. _He_ knows.

“I failed her,” he sobs. “I failed her so many times, and I just keep doing it. And I never—I never got to tell her—” he swallows. He can’t finish the sentence. _That he’s sorry. That he loves her._

Josephine places a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure she knew.”

“Is there something after this? After death?” he whispers.

Josephine is quiet for a moment. “No.” Bellamy doesn’t know if that brings him relief or not. “Get up,” Josephine says. “We’re going back to Sanctum.”

“I can’t go back there.”

“You can’t help Clarke. She’s dead. But if I’m not back in Sanctum soon, you’re going to lose everyone else you love.”

“You don’t care.”

“No,” Josephine agrees. “Do you?”

Right now, he doesn’t feel like he does. He lost Clarke. What does anything else matter? But he drags himself to his feet anyway. Josephine is already walking. Lead in his heart, grief in his bones, Bellamy follows.


End file.
